The Life of a Wrestling Troll
by Failure Turtle
Summary: I'm that guy you see booing your favorite Superstars each week, and this is my story.
1. Hi, My Name Is

**A/N: Alas, this one just came to me again. I like the idea of this one. It makes me giggle. You'll understand.**

I'm the one you all hate.

Well, not all of you. Some of you are in the same boat that I am.

You like to have fun, right?

No, I'm not a wrestler, nor do I ever intend to be. I'm just a fan like the rest of you. I just take it to a whole different level.

Some wrestling enthusiasts might call a mark, whatever that means. I prefer the term "troll." I'm kind of like an internet troll. I guess that's a terminology that most people understand. If you don't, I'll explain. A troll is someone that just says stuff and does things to piss people off, even if they don't agree with what they're saying or doing.

I know what you're thinking. Why would someone do or say things that they don't believe in? I'll tell you why. Because it's just so damn fun. I know, my choice of hobby might seem unusual, but to each his own.

I'm not even sure why it's so fun. I go to many WWE events a year. I'm actually pretty good friend with Sign Guy. You all know him, right? We usually end up sitting together. But if I go alone, I always make sure I get front row. There is no greater satisfaction in my life than seeing myself on youtube the day after a show. I love it when guys like Cena and Batista come out, and there I am, making my "opinion" known. You might think that's sad, but I don't care. I like what I like, and that's how I like it…or something like that.

I cheer for the heels. I should rephrase that. I cheer for the heels that most people hate. People love Santino Marella, so I don't cheer for him that often. I think JBL is brilliant, and Edge is just amazing. I think it's funny when people say that guys like Edge need to get out of the WWE because they hate them so much. Um, well…if you hate him, that means he's doing his job. They aren't going to fire him for doing their job, now are they?

There's a certain group of wrestling fans that I can't stand. In fact, I wouldn't even call them wrestling fans. They're more like "attractive male" fans. I'm sure there's a word for them, but I'm not quite up on my teenage terminology. I really like messing with Cena fans. I don't know why, but it is just so damn funny. They get so offended. If you go up to a pack of them and say their man can't wrestle, they look as if their world just stopped. It's great. Those girls just…annoy me.

I don't hate John Cena. He's a cool guy. Yeah, he might not be the greatest wrestler, but I've got stories about him. Bet on it. I don't like Batista. He's a really big jerk in real life. Sorry, ladies.

Actually, this reminds me of a time that I got in an argument with Cena for shits and giggles, and then afterwards…

**A/N: These chapters are going to be short. I still need to find a name for this guy. I was thinking Aaron or something. Ideas?**

**Review.**


	2. Triple H's Time is Now

**A/N: Okay, so only like one or two of you liked Aaron. I already have a douche bag named Brian in one of my other stories. Two of you said Jason, so I think that's what we're going to go with.**

**This is meant purely for humor.**

Okay, so this wasn't the first run in I've had with John Cena. It was maybe the third or the fourth. The previous run ins weren't enough for him to remember me, though. They were mainly him just walking to his car from the arena or driving by while I yelled at him with a bunch of other trolls.

That's one thing that I will never understand about Sign Guy. He always cheers for the faces. Why? Everyone stopped cheering for Cena years ago, yet he still continues on. I think he's the only hope for the girls these days. Keep dreaming, ladies. He'll come around soon, I hope.

I believe this one happened around Wrestlemania 22 in Chicago. Yes, that is correct. Well, John Cena was doing an autograph signing, so I went to go and wreak some havoc. You know what I did? I showed up decked out in _all_ Triple H merchandise. Well, that's not entirely true. I wasn't wearing a Triple H t-shirt, but I'll get to that later on. I had the Triple H sweatshirt, sweatbands, and a WWE Championship belt with a Triple H name plate. Yeah, it was pretty much awesome.

They only allowed the first two hundred people in the building for the autograph session. How lame, right? I mean, Cena probably would have stayed for everyone. He's not a douche like other wrestlers, but those are stories for another time. They handed the first two hundred people tickets. Luckily, my buddy and I knew to show up _very_ early, and we were in the first one hundred people.

Once we got up there, my buddy went before I did. He was "smart," I guess, and wore his Cena junk. I only call it junk because there's so much of it. He was wearing whatever his newest shirt was that week. He got his autograph and picture and then waited outside for me.

Time for my fun.

As I walk up to Cena, he just stares at me. He then says, "Do you really think that you're going to get an autograph coming in here like that?" I guess he didn't like ol' Tripsy. Wait…

Now was the moment I've been waiting for. Good thing there's a bunch of girls behind me. This was going to be awesome.

I gave him my own rendition of his entrance theme.

"_In case __**you**__ forgot or fell off  
Triple H is gonna knock your block off  
Your wrestling is so whack  
And you can't turn your crap off_

_The Chain Gang's a joke, I laugh at this  
__It's automatic, H wins this  
__You'll get the Pedigree, you're finished  
__You're not a soldier  
__You'll be on the mat tapping  
__You ain't storming on no chumps like thunder and lighting  
__Ain't no way you're beating H, he's harder than nails  
__He's gonna put you on lock like you're part of a jail  
__Your in ring is stale and the competition  
__You've got them all wishing they could toss your ass in the pond while they go fishing  
__You're a lightweight because you made weight  
__Nothing about you is straight  
__Wishing Randy Orton was your soul mate  
__In any weather Triple H is always better  
__H is so hot that he can be defined with one letter  
__If you suck, then you suck  
__You're gonna drop the title belt  
__H will lay your ass down for the three second count  
__Your time is up  
__H's time is now  
__You can't see him  
__His time is now  
__He's the Game, son  
__Your reign is over now  
__You can't see him  
__Triple H's time is now"_

Yeah, I memorized that whole thing. See, I am very dedicated to my trolling. The girls behind me were shrieking. I mean, _how dare_ someone not like John Cena! I even got a few claps from some guys in line.

The greatest reaction was from Cena. He was actually laughing at me. "What's your name?" he asked.

"Jason."

"Jason, I like your spunk, but your wardrobe choices leave something to be desired."

It was then it hit me. "Don't worry, John. I got you covered." I took off my Triple H sweatshirt and underneath I was wearing…

SHOCKER! A JOHN CENA SHIRT!

Then again, it was from when he was more tolerable by everyone. It was the one that said "The Champ is Here" with the arrow pointing down, a must have for male fans across the world.

I think it confused him, but he seemed amused nonetheless. I guess he finally figured out that it was all a joke.

I told you that I don't hate him. He's just not a great wrestler. He's nice.

But Batista on the other hand…That guy is an asshole. I almost got arrested this one time…

**A/N: I based this off of when my friend met John. He did the whole going to Chi-town thing. He didn't get a ticket and he snuck in. He was wearing a HHH sweatshirt, but he didn't rap to Cena. John said the thing about his shirt but he was wearing a Cena on under it. So that's where I derived this chapter from. I liked it.**

**Review.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: No, not all of these will be about a real encounter. I only know of a few. This one won't be. The Kennedy one will be, and probably the Santino one. None of these interactions, unfortunately, are from me. Wait, the Santino one is. How could I forget about Santino?**

So this was the worst I've ever gotten into it with a wrestler. I knew that Dave Batista was a jackass from the get go, but I wanted to _really_ push his buttons.

I told you, I like to mess with these guys.

I knew that he couldn't do anything to me. Sure, there were cops everywhere. My own criminal record was at stake. But there was something more important at stake for Dave Batista:

His public reputation.

This guy sucks in the ring. I don't like him at all. I don't see how girls like him, either. He's a 'roided up freak.

I have no problem trying to get my point across.

I went to his autograph signing at the mall. Being the good troll that I am, I got there early. I even brought a lawn chair. Yeah, _that's_ how early I got there.

The line looped the full length of the mall and out the doors. Wow.

Good thing I came early.

The fucking douche bag showed up forty five minutes late.

Okay, so I was like the third one in line. Yeah, two whores beat me. Whatever. I guess they just wanted to get in his pants. From what I've heard, it's not that hard.

Batista, being the tough bastard that he is, had like six cops as an escort. Wow.

Here we go.

The asshole didn't even say hi to me or anything.

"Wow, you're a rude asshole," I said. Hehe.

"Excuse me?" 'Tista said, standing up.

"Oooh, I'm so scared."

Batista proceeded to rip up the program I brought for him to sign. I'm serious.

So, it pretty much turned into a verbal argument. It was pretty loud.

The cops stepped in when I nearly jumped the table.

Oops.

They carried me out of the mall. Luckily, I wasn't arrested. I don't need that happening. I might miss an important wrestling event.

That was probably my most intense wrestling encounters.

There was this funny time with Mr. Kennedy, though…


End file.
